


Keep the Tinsel

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Kat's Johnlock Xmas 2019 [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Crossdressing Kink, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Kat's Johnlock Xmas Challenge 2019, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Sherlock's late meeting John at a pub after a case, or so John thinks...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Kat's Johnlock Xmas 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560907
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84
Collections: Kat's Johnlock Xmas 2019





	Keep the Tinsel

**Author's Note:**

> Kat's Johnlock Xmas 2019 : Tinsel

John had sat nursing a beer for nearly fifteen minutes as he waited for Sherlock. He did not think much of the genius’ lateness. He knew Lestrade had given Sherlock a new case while he was on shift at surgery. Sherlock would tell him all about it. Once he got to the pub that is.

The consulting detective would get all involved with the shiny new case, especially if it rated about a seven. Still, unless something happened, he never forgot to contact John if he were running egregiously late.

Maybe because he was a little tired, maybe because it was the holidays when everything was more jovial in general, but the pub felt extra loud. To make it worse some leggy ginger in a booth across the pub was trying to get his attention. She was shadowed in the deep booth, he could not really make out her face, but he certainly noticed the legs clad in stiletto heels wrapped in tinsel as ankle straps for the holidays. He smiled, shook his head and then mentally dismissed her.

“Hey Doc. This came from the leggy bird in the booth. She’s inviting you to join her. Can’t really see her face, but man those legs are endless!” The bartender placed a highball of scotch in front of him with a wicked smile.

He turned to face her, shook his head in a way that apologized, but thanked her for the attention, but pointed to his wedding band as he politely declined the drink and turned back around to the bar.

“Thanks mate, but no thanks. Please send it back.” John shook his head.

Three Continent Watson had to inwardly laugh at what his life had become. _Mr. I’m Not Gay_ who once chased women for sport was now happily married to a man. Ah, but not, just any man. He was married to Sherlock Holmes and living his best life as one of their American clients had once said to them. A life he was having a time of, or would be, if Sherlock showed up.

He had already texted to let his husband know he was at the pub. He was giving it another five minutes before he started calling.

As John slid from his stool to head outside where it was quieter to make a call, he accidentally knocked a woman’s clutch to the floor.

“Oof! So sorry.” John squatted to retrieve the bag and found himself staring at the instep of a woman’s foot in strappy stilettos. The straps of the shoes were covered with tinsel that then wrapped around the ankle. John was about to apologize again out of habit when he blinked. He realized it was the tinsel wrapped foot of woman from across the bar who had tried to send him a drink. The tinsel wound around the leg to end at a garter on the lower thigh just under the skirt. It was not on her legs earlier, John knew this display was done just for him.

Up close and personal now, John realized then he knew the shape of that ankle and the smooth calf. More important, he recognized the muscled thigh under the almost unseemly short elf green skirt. Even before he saw the minute scar from a stitching he himself had done as conformation, he _knew_ that leg that jutted out from the open Belstaff.

“You were never late!” He accused as he picked up the clutch.

“No, I was not…” a softer smoky voice version of the voice he knew floated above his head.

It did _things_.

John slowly rose and let his fingers run along the inside of the ankle, calf and lower thigh. By the time he stood he was fully grinning at this woman who towered over him in her heels.

“Jesus…” John stared into her face as he handed over the clutch.

“Thank you, John…” she purred accepting it.

The dark curls were fully hidden under a deep ginger wig. The perfectly applied make-up only enhanced the familiar verdigris eyes and cheekbones. The familiar cupid bowed lips, stained a most enticing rouge, made a teasing moue at him.

“I admit I am so completely aroused…” John cleared his throat gently, “…and confused. What the hell…?”

“It was for a case, John. I was trying to get you to come to the booth to tell you the details, not test your fidelity, but it is nice to know a gorgeous pair of legs won’t detract you. These surely sent several at NSY into a tizzy.” Sherlock smirked and then bent his head close to John’s ear, “so I take it you like me in this, too?”

The voice easy slipped from the throaty feminine of his woman to the velvet baritone of his husband at the end. Its effect was obvious as he stood up again with a very knowing smile.

John’s eyes roamed the full length of the beauty standing before him. He had never considered such a thought before, but he was all in for it now.

“John…?” Sherlock’s brow furrowed when he did not speak for a long moment.

John ran his fingers just under the hem of the skirt, completely unable to stop the lip lick, as something brushed his knuckles.

“Are you wearing any pants?” John whispered incredulously.

“You mean knickers?” Sherlock answered cheekily. “No.”

John visibly swallowed.

“Those lips are heaven… I want to know what that shade of red would look as a circumference marker...” John spoke as he made a not so subtle adjustment with his trousers.

Sherlock’s eyebrow shot up and John peripherally noticed as the skirt did likewise.

“…This tenting is purgatory…” John’s hand slid over Sherlock’s own obvious reaction under the skirt as he closed the Belstaff and buttoned it.

“…but those shoes? Those shoes are the hell incarnate...” John growled, “…because I want to tie that tinsel around your ankles in an entirely different manner.”

“Impertinent incubus!” Sherlock voice took on a different timber that did more _things_.

“Scandalous succubus!” John retorted in a way that he knew did _things_ to Sherlock.

“I’ll go get us a taxi while you pay your tab?” Sherlock offered with a most lascivious look.

“Already paid, sweetheart, let’s go.” John gestured to the door letting Sherlock walk ahead.

John ignored the bartender who gave him a wide grin and a thumbs up as they passed, he was too busy looking at Sherlock’s posterior.

John slightly frowned at the odd way Sherlock's long stride was all wrong. There was a certain sway in his hips that wasn't there normally. John did not even pretend he was not watching the undulating movement of Sherlock's rear end as they stepped out onto the pavement.

Then it hit him, _she_ was walking like a woman. Sherlock threw a grin over the shoulder that told John the hussy knew exactly what she was doing.

John gave an appreciative wolf-whistle, even as he inwardly cursed the coat that blocked his full enjoyment of it, as a leg parted the coat when Sherlock held out a hand and a taxi magically appeared, as always.

John opened the door and waited until Sherlock’s head cleared before he spoke.

“You get in the taxi with that skirt on, you don’t get out that way.” John’s lowered voice was no less forceful as he climbed in behind Sherlock.

“Keep the tinsel though, remember I’ve got plans for it.”


End file.
